Nikolai Meets Christine Again
by chayar1991
Summary: Didn't like the ending so I wrote another. Title pretty much explains it.
1. The Meeting

Nikolai Meeting Christine

He walks to the park, now an older man. He is unnoticed by most as he seems "normal" or just part of the back ground. He is just the old man feeding the birds. Every once in a while he may be noticed, but usually only by those who believe he is homeless, and even then it's rarely. Most people don't notice him, or think he's not worth noticing. Although, that's fine for him as he prefers it that way. He enjoys the solitude. He practiced for so long to not be noticed, to blend…it's a pleasant relief to be invisible to most, without trying. Every so often he allows himself to be seen, as he is today.

He sees a woman slip on the snow covered grate before him, and he goes to help her up. She is so shocked by his materializing out of thin air, it seems, that she initially, instinctively moves away, but only by an imperceptible distance. He clearly sees the alarm in her chocolate brown eyes. "Are you alright, Miss?" he asks. She nods, mutters a quick "thank-you" as he helps her to rise, and she quickly makes her way gone, off to her destination. He walks back to where he was, the world just perceives an average old man.

He sits on the green, rusting bench with seeds in his pocket. He feeds the stormy cloud colored pigeons as he tosses the feed to the white blanketed cobblestones before him. The brisk air bites at his inked fingers, his once freshly inked tattoos now faded behind layers of skin, and time. He takes a breath in and the scents of Christmas, pines, chestnuts, and nutmeg, fill his nose as he waits for the woman, the woman with the golden hair, and bright blue eyes like the clear blue sky on a new day. She gave him hope for humanity then, and continues to today.

He shifts in his black Armani, getting nervous. He checks his watch, staring at the tattoos on his well calloused fingers. The tattoos signified danger to her, and signified a responsibility to him, the responsibility to the F.S.B. "You're in [a] very wrong place, Anna Ivanovna. You belong in there with nice people," his once strong and serious voice warned her as she followed him into the dark world of crime. She was filled with fight, as if lit by the very flames that burned the mother's diary. She never stopped fighting until she was sure there would be justice for the young Tatiana. She stood up to Kirill, yelling about what Semyon had done, and followed him to the bay, even after learning what he could do. She moved the F.S.B. Agent Luzhin so much he felt he must tell his handler of Semyon and Tatiana. He felt compelled to her, even when she was gone.

Although he knew he shouldn't, he secretly, and covertly, kept tabs on the two ladies, the "devochka" and the "Ivanovna." That is how he thought of them, knowing that he was less likely to even possibly disclose who they were if he thought that way of them. But, eventually their communications ceased as it became too dangerous for them.

He sent her one last letter, the very reason he was there, that she should meet him on "her birthday" in sixteen years. He knew she'd understand. So, unlike so many others, in warm houses with friends and family, he sits waiting as white flecks cover his silver hair, and melt on his, now pink colored, cheeks. He worries about what has held her up. Until, he hears the tapping of heels.

He looks up expecting to see his angel; his heart is delighted. He looks up with baited breath only to feel as if he were shot. He does not see his fiery angel walking toward him. Instead, he sees a thin, young woman, barely out of childhood, with green eyes and flowing light brown hair, walking towards him. Her ruby coat catches on a railing, and he rises to help her. He recognized the green in her eyes to be that of "Christine." She looks so much like her mother, Tatiana, the woman who became his first lie to Anna, or rather his knowledge of her. His heart is pained thinking of the lies. "Hello," she says in a light tone. Her sweet voice discloses that she did indeed grow up in the Scottish countryside, as he hoped. His grey eyes look her over, and while she is a bit thin for his liking, overall she looks well, although he knows all too well how scars can be hidden behind a good façade, and a well buttoned shirt.

"Privet" he replies, trying to decipher what she knows. She smiles. It reminds him of his Anna so much. "I know who you are, and who I am. Would you like to take a walk with me? Or would you rather give me a ride, 'driver'?" she asks, full of her mother's spunk, that is the spunk of the only mother she has ever known.

"A walk, car is in shop," he replies, a wicked smile growing on his nearly frost bitten face. "Da," she says as her smooth hands take his well-worn right, and places it against her velvet clad arm. "Where is your mother? Surely, she wouldn't allow you to travel alone…" he asks, his voice cut-off by the building fear that she is gone from this plane. "She is in the hotel room. It was too cold for her this mornin'. So, I came instead. I figured you'd wanna see her. We're at the Marriott on King's Ave, room 127. Is it true what she says of you?" she asks with timid wonder. "Da, I was Vory V Zakone," he replies casually, almost as if he were saying something as innocuous as "Yes, the sky is blue." A smile creeps onto her face, while she looks at him with disappointed eyes. She sighs knowing she'll have to do this the hard way. "That's not what I meant." She whispers, hoping she won't have to spell it out for him. "Then what do you mean, little girl? I am an old man, and do not have time for games," he says with the same harsh tone that he once spoke in, on the subject of slaves to Anna. She just smiles and shakes her head, chuckling as a response, and then strongly utters the initials "F.S.B." He looks to her in shock, and immediately places on his metaphorical mask of stone. He looks at her, now trying to figure out who and what she is, behind the pretty face of a sixteen year old girl.


	2. Author's Note

Okay peoples, so originally this was all I had written for the piece. It was actually an assignment for a class I had, but...given the responses (AND if you didn't review PLEASE DO! They're like the air I breathe!) I have been thinking on writing a second chapter at least, but I would like your ideas...what would you as the reader like to see? Anna and Nikolai seeing each other? What about more about Christine? Anything on Stupen or Anna's mother? What about Anna's life post the move to Edinburgh? Tell me your thoughts people. I'd love to read them.

-Chaya


	3. The Warning

"How is your mother?" Nikolai asks, ever curious of "his" Anna's life. Did she hate him? Did she understand what he did for her, and why he did it? Did she too know about what he really was? Was she happy? That was his greatest question of all. Her happiness. Was she truly happy or just content? Did she miss him like he did her? Or did he truly fade into the back ground as he hoped he would for hers and her family's safety? Was she still "his" Anna? The brilliant, stubborn, and determined Anna? Or was she no longer his by way of ring or change of self? All of these questions flew through his mind as his ears were filled with the tapping of her shoes and the silence of her voice. She finally, after the few agonizing moments passed while she gathered her thoughts, responded. "She's good, I mean there's always this kind of longing look in her eyes whenever I asked about my father, for a while she told me it was you…" He was shocked that she told the girl this. He always mused over it in the late hours of the night when no one could see, but he always thought she would just tell the girl that she adopted her alone, giving him no credence. "Eventually, she did tell me the truth of it all. I found the diary last year and connected the dots. She kept your letters by the way. Every one of them, tied together and put in her secret box, underneath the wobbly floorboard in her bedroom. I think she wanted you to be my father though, my papa. You know? Like how she's my mom. She never got with anyone. I mean she went on a date every so often, but none of them panned out. She loves Russian music, plays it all over the house. It's one of the few times I see her with a genuine smile on her face. She'll be drinking tea, listening to Russian music and reading a "letter from a friend from long ago." She thinks I don't notice, but I do. She works at the hospital. NICU and Birthing unit. She has some friends there. Oh, don't ask about my grandmother, or Uncle Stepan. They died about a year and a half ago. Car accident. We buried them within a week of each other. That is the only time I've ever really seen her depressed. So, we're here." She says as the two arrive at the hotel. "It took a lot to get her to actually come here. Hurt her, and you'll have to deal with me. You may be this big, scary, Russian dude, but I am the most terrifying thing on Earth. I'm a teenager, and I can promise you that if you hurt her there won't be a single second of your remaining days, however little they may be, that you don't regret ever even meeting me." She says with a smile as she slides in the key card and opens the door.

The two walk into the small, two person room. It looks like a standard hotel room. Two singles, red comforters on each, made to the nines. Matching curtains and rug. A small, lit bathroom whose light illuminates the entrance area of the room as the door was left open. A television on, the two walk in to see Anna asleep on the bed. Her normally better done hair splayed on the pillow, her light pink lips gently left open as her chest gently rises and falls. While Christine had seen her mother grow ever older as the days passed to Nikolai she looked as immaculate as ever. The young woman took off her snow-coated shoes and padded over to her mother. She gently shook her shoulder. "Mom, it's Christine. It's time to wake up. I brought your friend here." She said softly. Anna's bright blue eyes opened sheepishly as she turned to look on her daughter's face. "Hmm?" She asked groggily. "I brought your friend here." Her daughter replied as she redirected her mother's attention by pointing to the silver haired man, who silently stood with his hands behind his back and a gentle, gracious smile on his face, waiting for his angel to fully wake and acknowledge his being there.

She finally did turn her attention to him. An immediate smile grew on her face as she got out of bed and made her way to him. He saw the light in her eyes like a thousand stars before him. "Hello Nikolai. I've missed you." That's all she said. That's all it took. He was hooked on the honey in her voice, the fire in her eyes….all that she was. She walked close enough for him to feel her warmth. She just stood there for a second. An agonizing second. A torturous second. A frozen second to take it all in before she hugged him. There they stood holding each other, just as they did on that New Year's night, all those years ago.


End file.
